Julia Lelieveld and the fifth element

~10~

Thursday and Friday passed slowly. I hadn't seen Lucas again. We had a lot of tests and homework, so after school I had plenty to do.

On Friday Eva had asked if I would like to visit her on Saturday and stay for dinner. Of course I thought that was fun! I had already more or less promised.

If Dad promised he'd be home with dinner, I wouldn't go. It had been so long since we had a nice meal together.

When I rode my bike home on Friday afternoon, I thought I would stop by Dad's work. After about fifteen minutes on the bike I was standing in front of the police station. The station was in the middle of the old town. It was a beautiful old and large building. I walked up the stairs to the entrance. It still had an old-fashioned revolving door. Inside it had been renovated in the old style to match the building. It was beautiful. Gosh, Daddy hadn't told me about that.

I walked to the counter where a young officer was sitting. I estimated him in his early twenties. He had probably just finished his education or was still working on it.

He was on the phone. It was probably someone who wanted information about an ongoing case, because he was foisting the person on the other end of the line with the story that he shouldn't give information that hadn't come out yet. As I waited at the counter, I saw by his name tag that his name was Jerry. He finished his conversation and looked at me questioningly.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes, I think so. I'd like to have a word with Detective Lelieveld."

"Detective Lelieveld? Sorry, but that is not possible without an appointment, you can speak to my colleague, he has office hours." He looked at me seriously.

"Could you give him a call?" I asked him.

He looked at me a little annoyed. "Sorry, but what don't you understand? He's very busy at the moment, so again, you can't speak to him!" he said in an angry tone and turned his head.

Gosh, he quickly was irritated. Somehow I couldn't take it from him.

Maybe it was because of his uniform. I hated the police uniform.

With a little raising of my voice I said to him:

"Yes, I know he's very busy, that's why I'm here. Could you just give him a call and tell him that his daughter is waiting for him here?" I crossed my arms. I was suddenly fed up with him.

He looked at me inquiringly. "Yes, yes, his daughter, and how do I know it's not an excuse to speak to him?" he said, annoyed.

"An excuse? You're not serious about this, are you?", I retorted. Now he had really screwed up. Damn, I didn't feel like being in such a bad mood at all. He looked at me arrogantly. I picked up my phone and dialed Dad's cell phone number. Luckily he picked up.

"Yes, hey Dad, with me. I'm down here at the station. I just wanted to come see you. But officer Jerry sitting here at the front desk doesn't believe I'm your daughter, so he didn't want to call you," I said clearly. As I said that, I looked at Jerry. He looked somewhat startled and angry at me.

Dad said he was coming and that I should just wait in the reception. "Okay, see you," I said triumphantly. I turned and walked to a chair. What a bitch I could be, I thought to myself. Well I thought Jerry deserved it.

While I was waiting at the reception I took another good look around me, at all those people in uniform. Luckily my father wasn't wearing a uniform. When Mom died, the officers also came to the hospital to question me. They were also wearing those uniforms. The emotions and feelings I had then came back to me clearly when I saw so many people in uniform. That's probably why I put off so long coming to see Dad at work.